Sniper's Proposition
by ephemeral PLEASURES
Summary: In a rather tight spot, Sniper asks a favor from one of his teammates. This might lead to one of the most hilarious and crack filled stories I have ever written! Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

Team Fortress 2

Scout/Sniper

"Sniper's Proposition"

"Ah, how hot is it out here?"

Was he talkin' ta me? How the hell would I know how hot it is out here? I don't know, _hot,_ buddy! I ain't a fuckin' thermometer. And besides, I was clearly busy, ya know, polishin' my bat. Sniper wasn't a real friendly sorta guy. How friendly can ya be when your sittin' 200 meters away, drinkin' your own piss, and constantly paranoid that some mutha of a Frenchman doesn't stab ya in the freakin' back. Still, I was standin' there, mindin' my business, when he asked this question that didn't really go lookin' for an answer. Did that stop me from given one? Do ya know who I am? "Freakin' hot, right! Man, sweatin' balls already. And we got a mission today too. But I guess you've seen hotter, yeah?"

He looked at me with kind of a lopsided smile. Half of it stayed where it was while the other half of his lips looked like someone pushed'em up. Sniper is weird. I mean, what man can bare standin' around, waitin' to get shot! I gotta move. I can't sit still, it ain't possible. He's weird. Even Heavy the whale moved around more than this guy. And that's fuckin' sayin' a lot. I ain't ever seen Sniper come outta his room unless it was for a fight. Heh, once, I caught him talkin' on the phone with his ma. Aha, that was some funny shit to listen to, ya know?

"Yeh, mum, I'm keepin' safe. … Tell Dad I know I can bloody well hear him, will yah? God – No, no. … Did yah really just ask me that? Mum, he's a spy. I ain't going to kiss n' make up with my enemy! B – Because that isn't how things work around here!"

I was laughin' so hard I almost fell over, so I left before I could pee myself. Who knew that Sniper's mom road his ass too. Heh, guess we had that in common, since my own ma is a pain in the ass sometimes! And Sniper hates that fuckin' French douche as much as I do. Oh yeah, while I was rememberin', Sniper said somethin' to me. "Course. This ain't even real heat in Australia." .. He said his own country funny. Like – "Ustralia" as if the A never existed. "Still, sweatin' is always a problem when your tryin' ta concentrate I 'spose."

What are we doin'? Small talk about the weather? .. The fuck is this? Sniper shifted and stuck his harry hands into his pockets. He was up to somethin'. I ain't stupid, I can read people. What did he want? Well, he better fuckin' ask soon before I just blow him off. My time is precious. I could be out botherin' fatty, or tormentin' the French fag.

"A – Ahh," Sniper cleared his throat, "Yah know my parents are stoppin' by the base later this afternoon."

Cool. Who the fuck cares? My ma stops by whenever she wants to mess around with – Never mind, that's disgustin', talkin' to Sniper.

He scratched his chin and tipped his hat over his eyes, hidin' his embarrassment I guess. I don't know, he ain't even said nothin' yet. But he started goin' again, "And I am sort of a jam, actually. My mum and dad are – God, I love'em, but sometimes they're real work. Mum kept talkin' to me about settlin' down, getting' a family, and all that rubbish. I couldn't take it! … So, I lied. Told'em I had a girlfriend." He didn't say anythin' after that, just kept lookin' to me and away.

Okay, I ain't a fuckin' mind reader, so sue me. I put the tip of my bat on the ground and leaned on it, sizin' Sniper up. He was taller than me by a bit, waaayy older. Stupid shades made him look like a prick. I decided to keep playin' nice for now. Still didn't know exactly what was eatin' at him, and maybe I'll be able to use it as ammo later. "Man, ain't 'rents the worst! My ma keeps yellin' that I oughta get a girl, but I'm like 'Ma, don't fuckin' talk to me when ya got a French cock in your mouth'! Right? Aha, yeah." I laughed at my own joke, but Sniper looked almost horrified. He gave me a curt nod, which pissed me off, cuz anyone would be laughin' their ass off. Maybe he was just nervous and the joke hadn't hit him yet.

"A – Ah, well… Bet our mums could get together sometime. But –" He muttered under his breath. I almost yelled at him to speak up, but suddenly he blurted out, "I need your help, son. If my parents show up and my Dad figured I lied, I'll receive the worst tongue lashin' of my bloody life. And, trust me, you weren't my first choice, but Pyro is temperamental and I nearly got burned to a crisp when I asked her. …Do you get where I'm goin' with this, kid?"

I didn't like him callin' me that. And I didn't like not knowin' what the hell he was talkin' about. I grabbed my bat and pressed it against his chest, pushin' him back and shoutin, "No! So why don't ya just fuckin' spell it out for me, kay gramps? Ain't got time to play games –"

"Be my girlfriend for a day."

Dropped my bat onto the floor. It made a clink, but I was already convulsin' with my laughs. In between outbursts, I gasped for air like a fuckin' fish outta water. Sniper gave a worried frown, lookin' paranoid as if someone was onto us. He reached out a bit and grabbed ahold of my shirt, pressin' a finger to his own lips and yellin' at me in a whisper, "Keep your fuckin' mouth shut! C'mon, it ain't that funny. Let's go somewhere else –" I was being tugged while hiccupping with laughter again. I had picked up my bat and let it drag on the ground, an obnoxious grinding sound following up. Still gigglin' like a school girl, I smirked and flopped onto a chair when we reached some empty room. I think it is called the library or somethin'. Never been in here, so who knows? Still, it was hella quiet, and we were alone in a corner, surrounded by books and nothin' else.

The Aussie was standin' over me, scratchin' his head before adjustin' his hat again, and speakin', "Had your laughs now? Good, because I'm bein' serious. Do a man a favor, mate! I'm in hot water already with the folks, so I'd really be in your debt."

"Whoa, whoa. Slow it down. Rewind! …Kay, listen old man. I don't really know what your askin' me to do, since I'm a dude, and I ain't a fuckin' queer. So, what are ya talkin' about with favors and everythin'?"

Sniper unlatched his back that he always has with him, and reached in. When he pulled his hand out, he held out what he'd call his "solution". "No, not doin' it. ARE YOU FUCKIN' INSANE?" First of all, that wig wasn't even a good color. It was some cheesy platinum blonde that only looks good on chicks with big tits cuz ya aren't even lookin' at their hair. Secondly, I finally put two and two together, and realized that the Aussie wanted me to pretend to be a girl and shit. Nah. Ain't happenin' in his lifetime or mine. I swung at the wig with my bat, but he pulled it away. When I stood, he stepped in front of me, lookin' pathetic. I wondered if he wanted to get hit.

He spoke fast and quietly, "It'd only be for a few hours, and it ain't like I'm asking you to wear a dress. Just a skirt – But we can discuss that more later! If ya do this for me, kid, I will give ya half of my paycheck. Look, I'm desperate! Where's your heart, goddamnit?"

His speech made me frown. I hate bein' put in these fuckin' positions. Now, I know your thinkin', 'Scout, why would ya even consider this for a moment?' Well, truth is there is a really nice pair of cleats in the shop. Blue, like my shirt, and they would totally make me even faster. I fuckin' drool for these things, and though I've been savin', livin' expenses eat at my funds. (And if we're bein' entirely true, I usually just blow my money on Bonk. But for the sake of this monologue, let's say I am poor because of hard times). So, when he mention that there might be a little dough involved, well, I finally started to listen. He was still goin' about my heart, and blah blah blah, but all I could hear was the sweet cha-ching in my head! "Time out!" I yelled, makin' the T with my hands and starin' at the guy in fronta me. I started to twirl the bat with one hand while talkin', "I am hearin' what ya say, pal. Ya want me to pretend like I'm a girl, risk bein' found out by the team, or worse, the fuckin' Spy, all so you can keep lyin' to your 'rents about havin' a girlfriend when ya really haven't been laid in – Jesus, how old are you? – well awhile anyway." I let that stew for a moment. God, I am so fuckin' good. I get chills thinkin' about it now. "Well, if I was considerin' it, not sayin' that I am, but if I was, I'd need a pretty big reward if I gotta stick my neck out for ya like this."

Sniper's shaky gaze slowly lowered, I could almost hear him grindin' his teeth. He hated handin' his money over almost as much as I enjoyed takin' it from him. Grabbin' his check book, he turned to a nearby table and began writin'. I hovered over his shoulder. "…Yeah, Scout…Mhmm…Hah, no, gotta be a little more than that, gramps!" 

Sniper paused. For a second I wonder if he was gonna turn around and shank me with his fuckin' kukri. But, he stayed face toward the check, flipped to the next check and rewrote everything. He added a larger number next to his previous offer, and then violently ripped the check out. Spinnin' on his heels faster than I was ready for, he was suddenly loomin' over me with a really freakin' scary expression on his mug.

In hushed tones he threatened, "Yah know what I do to backstabbin' spies, right kid? If yah don't pull through, I won't have show any mercy." Can't lie; Sniper lookin' as mean as he did, and talkin' bout no mercy, it was scary shit. He offered me the check but when I snatched for it, he drew it back. "Oh, and one more thing," the geezer added with a really awkward smirk, "I lied about the skirt. You're wearin' a dress. Make sure yah shave your legs."

"W – WHAT?"

Part Two:

Coming, maybe? We have to see Scout in this dress. xDD Also, I'm sure Snipers parents will be a barrel of laughs. I think more hilarity will come from the next chapter since I had to set this one up. But yes, this is just crack that came from talking to a friend.


	2. Chapter 2

Team Fortress 2

Sniper/Scout/Spy

"Sniper's Proposition Ch. 2"

Authors Notes:

This has taken me forever. Not because it was hard to write, but because life is busy and motivation comes and goes. I'm so sorry for those who have been waiting, and I will do my best to be better at updating. I already have part 3 in the making, so the next update should be LESS THAN A YEAR. Aha, I don't know how time got away from me. This has not been looked over. I'm sure there are 800 typos. I'm sure my grammar is sloppy, and my accents come and go. Either way, I had a hilarious times writing this one. I can't wait till I can keep writing the next part. This is all for now. Thanks for sticking with me.

* * *

><p>Folks, thank yah for puttin' up with that brat of a boy while he goes bitchin' about this and that. I'll be takin' over the narration from this point on. 'Sides, this is 'sposed to be about my proposition, ain't it?<p>

Yeah, so bout now yah realized I'm in a bit of a spot. Me Dad and Mum aren't too keen on my choice in profession, or my life style for that matter. Not really lookin' for their approval at this point in my life – I know I ain't gettin' it. But, it's a bloody pain in my ass dealin' with their constant naggin'. Now I can almost hear yah wankas sayin', "Gee, Sniper, is it really that bad? All parents nag." To that I'd say, piss off yah buzzards. I'm a grown adult and if I want to blow people's heads off from the safety of a tall buildin', I will. And if I also want to lie to my parents bout havin' a girlfriend, dress one of my own teammates as a woman, and pray to God that this is not the worst bloody days of my life, I'll do that too!

Now, Scout was bein' real cutesy durin' our spat in the library. Yeah, little bugga like him gets a thrill when you're at their mercy. And as I signed away my paycheck, I thought to myself, "God, I can't wait to go out on another mission." This was because my wallet was runnin' on empty, and I had become accustomed to eatin' most nights. But also, I couldn't wait to scope out one of them other Scouts, jumpin' about like a rabbit, and shoot'em in the face. It wouldn't be the same as nailin' the one right before me, but it would do. Same face, same attitude, same kill.

"Yo, so…we doin' this or not, old man? I got shit to do." I was surprised he was so eager, but didn't hesitate to move things along. Back now in my quarters, I present him with the dress. Can I take a goddamn moment to mention how completely awful it is to shop for women's clothing? I nearly shot myself in my head dealin' with clerks askin' me, "Everything alright, sir?" and "Can I help you find something?" and "Oh, is that for a special someone?" Thought this must be hell. Pardon the side note. Back to the boy and the dress. S'not really my fancy in a dress; frilly, ruffles n' such, big bow tied in the back.

Scout didn't much care for it either, "The shit is this? Looks like ya got a goddamn circus tent! Fuck this, ain't doin' it." Grabbin' him by his bloody collar, I stared that brat in the eyes over me glasses. I wasn't about to let him walk on out after makin' a contract. That's not good business, and I am a professional.

"Listen here, son. Yah do as yah agreed, or ya'll wind up smeared along the walls if I have anythin' to say about it. Eh, kid?" With a foul grimace that locked in his fate, I'd won this little battle and sent him off to change. I knew me mum, and she'd like that dress. As I stood guard outside my room, I tipped my hat over my eyes and rubbed my chin. Bloody – would this even work? How in God's name was this gonna fool anyone? Who was I kiddin'? From the other side of the door I made out curses and grunts, as the boy seemed to struggle. God, women's clothing is a nightmare. I cleared my throat, "Got it? Ain't rocket science, pal." He didn't seem too like that much. I heard somethin' solid hit the door and jumped back. "Oi! Don't be throwin' goddamn things in my room! Whiny, useless li'l wanka…" Muttering the last bit to myself, I clenched my jaw and sighed. All this pessimism was gettin' me anxious. What would happen if me parents found out about this rouse? It'd be the end of my existence. How could I face'em?

The door clicked open before swinging wideopen, exposin' a rather inelegant Scout, squrimin' in the lace. He'd left his daft cap on his head and put on his baseball cleats again. The outfit was hideous. I couldn't stop the laughter! I really tried, mate, I swear on me rifle I did, but it came out nonetheless. "Yeah, yeah, get it out bushman! Fuck – This dress is so fuckin' uncomfortable." He scratched at the neckline, and sniffed, rubbin' his nose and foldin' his arms. The boy didn't look bad in it, and despite the irritatin' fabric, he hadn't whined about it. Scout's ego couldn't be damaged even by this little stunt, go figure.

After composin' myself, I stepped back in the room and said, "Cap off. Shoes too. Yah can borrow my sandals." Bein' fairly compliant with the demand, Scout ran a hand through his hair to shake out the shape that hat had left it. He untied the cleats and slipped into my thongs. I usually wore'em round the base to escape the bloody heat, but today I'd deal with boots. Leg hair was fair. Nice, harder to tell he had any at all. Still, standin' there lookin' at' him, I knew this wouldn't throw off the scent of me dad. He was too good at scrutinizin' my every goddamn move to overlook my slightly effeminate, but mostly masculine counterpart. "Oi," I gestured for the kid to move into my bathroom. Stashed away in one of the cabinets, I had a mangy wig I pawned off of that French bastard. He's always about them disguises and though I got seriously flack I'd managed to weasel it out without too much suspicion. Seriously, though, he'd fuckin' accused me of "'aving one of zem cross-dressing fetishes?" Christ, how I hate his bloody existence.

"What? Ya want me to put that on my head? Are ya nuts, gramps? That shit might have lice!" Whine, whine, whine.

Too bad I was sick of talkin' and shoved it on his head without much grace. It was sideways, and got tangled when the brat tried to rip it off. I gave him a rough shove to shut his trap up. Bloody, how can anyone run their mouth that much? Eventually we got the damn thing on. It was some brown curls that hung in his face. He kept blowin' them out of his eyes, but it ain't gonna do. I got one of them bandannas, yah know, for when I don't wear me hat. I like to keep that sweat of my face. Snipin' don't work if yah gotta blink to get salty fuckin' perspiration out of your line of sight. After tyin' the knot, I gave a momentary and toothy grin. Fuckin' genius – The bandanna acted as a headband, keepin' the curls outta his eyes, and actually covered a few patches where the wig was thin.

"Now look," I demanded, and Scout groaned. His skull itched, or so he said, like I gave a fuck. Still, even that brat couldn't deny that with his new hair, them big blue eyes were lookin' even girly by the moment. When he frowned it took away from the look, though, so I had to correct him, "Smile. Ain't goin' have ya actin' like a spoiled brat. So, suck it up. " With that, he turned and flipped me the bird, but accompanied it with an—I'll be damned—award winnin' smile. I was pleased, but nearly broke his middle finger tryin' to bend it back to his forearm.

When he cried out mercy I let go, only to smirk as he nursed it. "Fuck, man! You're a real bastard, ya know?" Whimperin', we headed back to the bedroom. This was it. All or nothin'. This shit wouldn't really fool my mates on the team, but if, maybe, that person only saw Scout maybe once or twice before, it could work. Thankfully, my 'rents aren't great at rememberin' names.

I wanted to lay out the shit he outta say, the things he shouldn't do, the ways women act, but forgot that parents are never late, always early. Announcer came over the goddamn speakers, just incase no one in the base realized I had company. God forbid I'd have anyone over! Christ, my parents wonder why I don't have a girl. Who could round here? "Sniper, please report to the main gate. Your parents are here. I repeat –" But I was already talkin' fast to the kid.

"Listen, I'll go get me mum and dad, while yah stay here. If anyone so much as knocks while I'm gone, yah shut the hell up and go into the bathroom. This plan ain't gonna work if anyone catches wind, yeah? I'll come get yah when I have them settled in the lounge. It'll be locked once I get yah inside, so no one can bother us. Then, at the end, I'll escort yah back to me room, kiss the rents goodbye, and weep because my ass is saved for another day. Any bloody questions? Good, didn't think so. "

I gave him a hard look, reminded him that maybe there is bigger shit on the line than money. Don't know if he followed or gave a shit, but I was out the door. I walked quickly, knownin' dad would ream me for not bein' there to greet them. I passed by a room where Engineer and Soldier played cards, then found Medic humming something while cleaning dishes. Good, everyone has better shit to do. Reaching the last hall, I picked up my pace. My hat was tipped down again just in case I ran into anyone. I wouldn't have to look them in the eyes, see? Easier to lie that way. Trick I learned in the trade.

So close to goddamn gates that when I reached the doors to push'em open, I gave a sigh of relief. But, the celebration was way too fuckin' soon because the sight I saw was enough to churn the bile in my empty stomach. French swine.

"It iz always such a pleasure seeing you again, Madame. It was so selfish of Sniper to keep you all to 'imself last time. And you are looking suave as always, sir." Schmoozin' my parents, was he? That grin Spy sported made my grimace all the harsher. He'd already let them in and was ushering them towards the door. As if he was genuinely surprised by me standin' there, Spy smiled, "Ah, speak of ze devil! I was just complaining to your mozer zat you do not like to share your company. Maybe zat is why I 'ave not 'eard of your little girlfriend?"

My plan, my beautiful plan was bein' pissed on by this snake. Meanwhile, my mum smiled on, happy to receive compliments despite struggling with this disgustin' accent. Dad seemed pleased that someone had been waitin' to let them in. He joined into the little game, unaware of the actually stakes, "Son, yah know he's got a point! Hidin' away this girl must mean she's a right old butter face. But, I guess we should be bloody grateful that yah got a lass at all. Your mum and I were beginnin' to suspect yah became some kinda queer—"

"Jesus fuckin' Christ dad! Can yah just hold your snarky remarks till we get inside?"

Looking to Spy again, my dad talked to him as if they had always been chums, "Sniper has always been a sensitive one. Even since he was a tiny, scraggly thing and such. 'Nother reason why we thought maybe he was—" Spy just nodded at the blank spot after the sentence, knowing what to fill in. He and my dad laughed while my mother, the only sane one left in the family, came over to wipe dirt from my nose.

She chided the other two, "Now, come now. Sniper was just a very creative little boy, and I've heard artists are always more in touch with their emotions! Maybe that's why he cried so much."

Abortin' the mission. I have to fuckin' abort this shit, go out to the shootin' range, knock out a few rounds (or a few hundred), and fuckin' breathe, or else I might end up stranglin' someone (or myself) from the sheer agony of what was takin' place right now. After gettin' them inside, I managed to put on a half smile and say, "Dad, Mum… I've got us the lounge for now, and even got some snacks. Let me take yah to it, get yah situated, and go get her."

"Excellent! I'll got get ze ozers –" Before Spy could rush off, I grabbed him by the upper arm and grit my teeth. He was so amused by my anxiety that I'm sure he gave a shiver of delight. "Somezing ze mater, mon ami?"

"Nah, just need a little of your help for a sec."

With a casual shrug, and a cocky smirk, I let Spy go and had him follow me to the lounge. I got the two comfy on a couch, gave me dad a nice cold beer, got my mum some tea, and dragged Spy away before he could do anymore damage. I got round a corner before I socked him in the gut. As he hunched over, coughin' and moanin', I squatted and sneered. "Listen chum," I nearly barked, "I'm happy to rip yah to shreds in front of me mum and dad anyday. Hell, my old man might even give me a pat on the goddamn back. So, if yah really think whatever plan yah got goin' in that fuckin' twisted brain of yours is worth dyin' over, then please, try me. I'll make sure yah can't respawn." Standin', I felt a little bit more at ease.

Might have been able to punch somethin', or it might have been the mixture of fear and nausea Spy was tryin' to overcome. Either way, I was walkin' away when he croaked, "Y-You need my 'elp… To pull eet off…" What the hell did he say? Did I not punch him hard enough? Pissed that he still had breath to talk, I spun around and stood a foot away from him. He was now standing upright again, unfortunately, and managed another one of his "charmin'" or as I like to call them, "deranged," smiles of his. He went on when it looked like I was goin' to kill him, "A – Aha, I mean – Your girlfriend. She iz not elegant enough to win your parents over, oui? Sort of a tomboy."

So, he knew. Great, wonderful, if I had any doubts before. The way he emphasized the boy in tomboy was basically tellin' me that he knew all along, and had been plannin' this confrontation since the beginning. Still, the offer he was suggestion, I can't lie and say it didn't interest me. Master of disguise? Could he really help the situation now? He'd have to move quickly. Christ, me gut was sayin' to do it, but never trust a rat. Unfortunately, desperate times seem to have put me in this problem from the beginnin' and if I was already workin' with one nimrod, why not just go for them all.

Soon we were headed back to my bedroom. He didn't talk while we walked, and it was only when I was unlockin' the door that he muttered, "Merde, I 'ope you at least got 'im to wear tights." Tights, shit, didn't think of that one. I swung open the door and we got inside before I locked us in tightly again.

"Oi, boy. Get out here." For some reason he wasn't in the bedroom. In fact, he wasn't in the bathroom either. Spy walked in a circle as I searched for my missin' girlfriend. He chuckled and sat on the bed.

"My, my. Zis must be a nightmare for you, no?" Taking out a cigarette, he brought it to his smug lips, but I didn't care. I was tearin' through the halls. That boy was a dead man. I had smoke comin' out of my ears when I saw a flash of pink in the kitchen. There, dressed in the attire I left him, eating a ham and cheese sandwich, chewing with his mouth open like a fuckin' cow, was my "true love."

"Oh, sup gramps?" Chew, chew, chew. "Getting' fuckin' hungry while I was waitin' so –"

He was over my shoulder. The curse words he was shoutin' was muffled by the food in his mouth. I sprinted back to the room, nearly missin' Heavy walkin' down another corridor. Up the stairs, through an intersection, round a corner, and into the bedroom we went. Spy hadn't moved, though his cigarette had gotten shorter. Now he stood and shut the door behind us. I must have looked somethin' bloody wild. My hat was barely holdin' onto me head, my face was red with anger, and I was barin' my fuckin' teeth like a rabid beast.

"Whoa, calm down old man. Gonna give yourself a fuckin' heart attack – HEY WAIT UP! What the hell is this guy doin' here? A – Ahh!" Suddenly a little more self conscious in his outfit, Scout tried to cover the dress with his hands, which was pointless.

Spy gave a sophisticated chuckle, turning to me to pat my cheek. "Now, Sniper, compose yourself. You got ze girlfriend back, and now all you need to do is entertain your parents long enough so zat I can finish zis catastrophe 'ere." Heh, catastrophe, he said? That catastrophe might just kill me by the days end. "Your dress choice is strange, but I will do my best to tailor it quickly." Spy unrolled a tape measurer and was making quick work of Scout who was dumbfounded and bitchin' again.

"Hey! HEY! Yeah, I'm talkin' to ya, fuckin' bastard. Don't touch me – Hey! You can't do shit to me –"

I snapped, "Quiet! Next words outta your mouth have got to be an apology or yah keep your trap shut." I looked to Spy once more, thankful that at least he can understand a hard stare. I spoke with extreme control, "Fine. Do what yah bloody well half to do. Get him lookin' some what decent. Have him act like a proper lady. Do that, and I'll owe you."

Spy quirked a brow slowly, "Ah, I am not a miracle worker, Sniper. But, I shall do my best. As for owing me, I already 'ave somezing in mind. Details will come later, of course, and for now, I need to you scurry along!" Shooing out of my own bloody bedroom, I grumbled and huffed, and tried to relax.

My 'rents would need a good excuse for my disappearing for fifteen minutes, plus one to explain why my girlfriend wasn't with me, and a final one to keep them waitin'. If I managed that, I had to eventually introduce them to Scout, who would either look infinitely better than he does now, or worse, dependin' on how trustworthy that slimy snake was. If, for some blessin', he looks decent, then we get to fuckin' hard shit. I wondered if I should come clean. If I fess up now, it might not be that bad.

"Oi, son, what the hell took yah so long? Where is this lady? Wonder if yah made her up, just like yah did with that dumb imaginary friend of yours back when yah were a brat." Dad gave a throaty laugh, and I thought to myself:

I can't let any emotions come between my work and me. This is just another job. Can't get too sentimental bout these things or it makes it harder to pull the trigger. I'm a professional. Let's see who comes out alive after this day is over.


End file.
